


This Might Be a Little Unhealthy, Admitted No One

by katiemariie



Category: Farscape
Genre: Community: farscape_land, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-03
Updated: 2012-07-03
Packaged: 2017-11-09 02:19:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiemariie/pseuds/katiemariie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of vignettes on how Scorpius and Braca's relationship has changed over the course of canon from Braca's perspective. Contains mentions of rape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Might Be a Little Unhealthy, Admitted No One

Braca had heard of Scorpius before. Who hadn't? News of the half-breed commanding pure Sebaceans—real Peacekeepers—spread quickly through the ranks. Knowing and seeing were two very different things. The rumors were hardly true—Scorpius was not a Scarran beast playing like a man. He was not a sickly child kept alive by medical coddling. He was... Braca wasn't quite sure what Scorpius was, but it was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

–

The cooling rod rotated back into Scorpius' skull, making Braca blabber in his curiosity. “Nothing,” he finished slowly.

“I comprehend the meaning of 'nothing,' lieutenant.”

What happened to the rest of Scorpius' brain? (Rumors amongst the ranks said that Scorpius ate brains raw, and Braca was not entirely convinced that was a fabrication.)

–

Braca felt caught, cornered. Could Scorpius have entered a moment later? They had been growing into a highly effective leadership team, getting along remarkably well, but Braca's disapproval of Scorpius' impurity hung heavy in the air they shared. His comments to the Luxan half-breed exposed this unspoken tension.

“Have you got something against hybrids?”

“No! Of course not, sir. Not at all.”

Thinking back to days ago, to frantically carrying a delirious Scorpius to a medic after Crichton's assassination attempt, Braca was beginning to suspect he was telling the truth.

–

Retrieving the neural chip from Crichton's brain and escaping from the hospital planet made Scorpius absolutely euphoric for a period lasting approximately a quarter of an arn. After the initial thrill wore off, he was as moody and snappish as Crais following the death of his brother. The techs sent by high command to interpret the chip's data were apparently not up to his standards.

“I refuse to believe these imbeciles are the brightest minds the Peacekeepers have to offer,” Scorpius hissed in Braca's face—which was about two motras from the assembled 'imbeciles' in question.

Braca responded cooly, as usual, “I find no reason to doubt that high command provided anything less than the most qualified individuals in all of Peacekeeperdom.” He enjoyed Scorpius' barely suppressed snarl, before gingerly saying, “I suppose we must search elsewhere for more capable scientists.”

“Non-Peacekeerers?” the erstwhile project manager blurted out. One needn't have translator microbes to know that she really meant, “non-Sebaceans.”

Braca and Scorpius savored her humiliation together.

–

Strappa's lab was in some ramshackle biosphere on a moon in the eema-end of the sector. As such, it was not entirely shocking that an out-of-work Scarran bounty hunter busted its way through the lab's antiquated security system on a rumor that the half-breed was inside. Strappa fluttered about like a distressed moth, swearing up and down that he did not betray Scorpius to this Scarran. Braca was neither dressed nor equipped to take on a Scarran, but he did his best to distract its attention away from Scorpius. The Scarran pushed him off to the side and into Strappa's dilapidated lab table. As the Scarran bore down on Scorpius, activating his heat ray, Braca groped for the nearest thing that could be use as a weapon. He disconnected one of the hoses attached to the lab table that said, “DO NOT DRINK,” and hoped that it is some kind of corrosive. On full blast, the hose shot out drops of clear liquid amongst a thick cloud of gas. When Braca could no longer hear the Scarran, he turned off the hose, hoping that none of its contents found their way onto Scorpius. As the smoke cleared, he saw the Scarran frozen in place like a statue. An unharmed Scorpius approached the immobile Scarran curiously before giving it a swift kick in the knee. The Scarran fell to pieces like a shattered mirror.

Scorpius whirled on Braca with a face so etched with emotion that the lieutenant feared he would be reprimanded for not taking the Scarran alive. Scorpius crowded him, making it hard to draw breath as he was pushed back into the lab table. “Sir?” he said questioningly.

Scorpius said nothing—as he normally chose when words could only come in a Scarran's growl. Instead, he lifted Braca onto the table and had him right there in front of Strappa and a rapidly melting melange of Scarran. Both, of course, remained silent.

–

Braca wasn't certain when “yes, sir” began to mean “I would destroy everything if you asked me,” but he imagined it was around the time “well done, lieutenant,” started to sound like, “you're more than anything I could have anticipated.”

–

“I was concerned that I'd made the wrong decision.”

Braca knew he was too far gone with Scorpius. Any internal debate he had regarding whether or not to remove the neural chip was not motivated by the conflict between a commanding officer's orders and Peacekeeper imperative to keep high-ranking officers alive. No, Braca was torn apart by two impulses that were normally in alignment: do whatever Scorpius said no matter what it was and keep Scorpius alive no matter what the cost. His absolute faith in Scorpius' plans and sincere belief that Scorpius could bounce back from anything won out in the end, but it was a near thing.

–

“Today... was a very strange day,” Scorpius said, leaning up against Braca's cabin bulkhead.

Braca was still a little woozy from the pain medication and not completely convinced that Scorpius was actually in the room. “Yes, sir.”

Scorpius leaned over Braca's bed. “Did you enjoy being made to bow for the Dominar?”

“It was humiliating, sir.”

“But that doesn't mean you didn't enjoy it.”

–

Braca was sick and scared. How much longer? How much longer could he take this? He thought he would do anything for Scorpius, but... She would send for him again tomorrow and the next day and the next to ensure his loyalty. To _earn_ his loyalty.

He was frightened. He'd never been frightened under Scorpius' command before. But now... Scorpius was gone. His eyes were vacant; he was lost, hidden under the heat delirium. What if he never came back? What if this all was for nothing?

Braca buried his face in his hands. He didn't cry; he was a Peacekeeper. He just couldn't hold his head up any longer. After a few microts, he felt a weight settle in his lap. He peered through his fingers and saw Scorpius' head resting on his thighs.

–

Crichton once accused Braca of being irritable because Sikozu got between him and Scorpius. Braca had no idea what the Human was talking about; Sikozu got on top of of him and Scorpius, making Braca anything but irritable.

–

Braca felt betrayed, lied to. She came closer. He pushed her away.

“We were—”

“You betrayed us,” he hissed.

“I had to save my people. That's more important than Scorpius' grudge.”

“Nothing,” he glared, “is more important than Scorpius' grudge.” 

He felt like a fool.


End file.
